


Our Inner Demons

by PunJedi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Finding Family, Fluff, Galra Keith (Voltron), Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Team as Family, galra keith reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-27 04:32:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12073587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunJedi/pseuds/PunJedi
Summary: In which Keith discovers his heritage by undergoing the Trials of Marmora—but withLanceat his side, rather than Shiro.While finding out about his Galra blood landed him a turn in the cryopod, somehow Keith figured telling the others was going to be more painful.And oh boy, was he right.





	Our Inner Demons

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a short self-indulgent fic because I've always wondered what would have happened if Lance went down to the base with Keith, and what a holo-Lance would say and how Keith would react.  
> And then it ended up getting a bit deeper, with the whole how-do-I-tell-them turmoil, and then this came about.  
> I tried to add some cute fluff in there to balance out the overlying "my god I'm an evil purple alien and my friends might hate me" theme, so here's to hoping I succeeded.  
> Hope you enjoy it, and thanks for reading!

“Uh, _no.”_

Everyone’s heads swiveled to Lance’s as one as he spoke, but he wasn’t about to let that deter him. Just because _Keith_ wanted to go on another goddamned suicide mission didn’t mean they were going to _let him._

Right?

“What the actual _quiznak,_ Keith?” he exclaimed, ignoring Allura and Coran’s winces as he both butchered their language _and_ swore in it. “Do you really think we’re letting you go out there? Between the two _actual black holes?_ With, ya know, the giant deadly _star_ in the middle?” His arm gestured wildly at the dizzying sight outside the bridge. Did Keith—did he actually think—what the _hell._ He would _die,_ no matter how great of a pilot he was.

Lance didn’t want to think about how sick that thought made him.

Keith was scowling, his face the picture of stubborn anger, and it made Lance want to march over there and punch him in that damn stubborn _face,_ maybe knock him out so he could tie him down and _frickin stop this._

“You can’t stop me, Lance.”

Lance felt his eyes widen in incredulity, and in his peripheral vision he saw Hunk and Pidge step slowly backward, like they were worried he would suddenly turn on them in the grips of whatever insane fury was flooding him. “Like _hell_ I can’t stop you! I’ll friggin nail your sorry butt to your damn bed if it stops you from kamikaze-ing yourself into one final blaze of glory! I’ll—”

“Paladins!” Allura roared, and Lance _barely_ let himself be quieted. He _almost_ kept yelling, except he knew that would earn him zero points and probably get Keith sent on his way faster, since he seemed to be the only one _making sense and opposing this suicide run._ He kept glaring, though, and Keith’s narrowed eyes looked like they were trying to burn a hole through his head. “That’s _enough!”_

Shiro cleared his throat, inserting himself between the two raging paladins. “Now, I understand _both_ of your arguments—it _does_ look bad, Lance, especially because it _could_ potentially be a trap.” Lance smirked at Keith, whose face only darkened before starting to protest. Shiro cut him off quickly. _“But_ we came all the way out here, and these are the correct coordinates. As much as I hate to say it, after all Ulaz sacrificed it would be a waste and a dishonor to not act on his information.” Now it was Lance’s turn to scowl as Keith perked up slightly, sensing a shift in the wind.

Why the _hell_ did Keith want to get himself killed so badly?

Allura scowled too, though for a different reason—it was clear she didn’t trust the Blade of Marmora, and was hesitant to send any of her paladins in there. Somehow the flight _there_ didn’t bother her nearly as much as what they would find, which seemed like total bull to Lance. Ulaz had been a good guy, after all, and he’d trust himself in a building full of Ulazes before he would fly past two black holes and a giant blue star to get there.

Cautiously, the others began to weigh in, glancing nervously between Keith and Lance as if afraid of setting either of them off again. The room was filled with tension, two bombs sitting there, primed to blow—and _Lance_ was one of the bombs. He could feel it deep in his core as he glared daggers at Keith, mentally daring any of the others to agree to this absolute _idiocy._

Hunk cleared his throat nervously. “I gotta go with Lance on this one… not that I don’t think Keith could pull the flight off, but it _could_ still be a trap.” Lance nodded, maybe not in satisfaction, but with cold acceptance as he gained one more supporter in his _keep-the-goddamned-mullet-alive-for-some-damn-reason_ plan. At least _Hunk_ wasn’t crazy.

“I dunno…” Pidge started, and Lance’s face darkened. “Sorry, Lance, but I think we owe it to Ulaz. Plus, if they’ve got this much crazy tech to fold space-time, they’ve gotta be a help to the cause.”

“That’s still a goddamned _tie,”_ Lance cursed. “Allura? You can’t think this is a good idea.”

Allura pursed her lips, looking uncomfortable. “I think Team Voltron should decide this one. The five of you need to get used to making decisions together.”

Lance swore softly under his breath; Allura had been his best hope.

“Shiro?” Keith asked, his voice gruff, and Lance could already tell the battle had been won. Shiro would side with Keith, would side with Ulaz, would side with honor and all that crap they talked about after people got _killed._

“I think we need to go, if only to make sure we’re not passing up valuable help in the days to come.” he said, nodding decisively. “Coran, open a hailing frequency.”

The Altean nodded, his eyebrows drawn together in worry as he did was asked. Shiro’s voice rang through the empty space as Lance silently fumed. “This is the Paladins of Voltron, sent here by Ulaz.”

Silence, and then a crackle. “Two may enter. _Unarmed.”_ Another crackle; the transmission ended.

Lance didn’t even bother bringing up how ominous that sounded as Shiro turned to the others. “Alright. We’ll send two down—”

“Me.” Keith interjected. Like anyone was surprised.

Shiro was nodding. “And I—”

“I’ll go.”

Everyone’s heads turned to Lance for the second time that day, no less surprised than the first time, though Keith seemed significantly more pissed off.

Lance had expected to have to argue the issue, but to his surprise, Shiro just nodded. “Alright. Keith, Lance, you two take the Red Lion—she’s the fastest.”

Clearly he wasn’t the only one surprised, as Keith sputtered a few seconds before finding words. “I can’t take _him,_ Shiro!”

The look the Black Paladin gave him was flat enough to level buildings. “Mmm?”

“He—I—he’ll—I can’t— _ugh!”_ he exclaimed, storming off to Red’s hangar. A minute before taking the elevator down, he shot a glare over his shoulder.

“Well?” he grunted at Lance. “You comin’, or what?”

Lance rolled his eyes but jogged over to the elevator, steadily ignoring what had happened the _last_ time they had gotten into an elevator together. Luckily Keith was wearing his armor, and not shirtless with that dumb towel draped over his dumb mulleted head.

He was barely aware of the others watching them as the doors closed, focused almost solely on glaring at Keith, who was steadily glaring back.

Lance was almost able to pretend he was going to be able to do something to save them both if Keith made a mistake on their flight down.

* * *

 

“Why’d you let them go?” Hunk asked as the elevator doors closed, making carefully sure the comms were off. “They looked barely ready to restrain themselves from killing each other, let alone survive an encounter with potentially hostile aliens.”

Shiro let himself grin slightly. He had every faith in Keith’s piloting abilities, and he truly didn’t think there would be any trouble down on the base. Even if there was, Lance and Keith were both very capable, and would have Red. They’d be alright, whatever happened—as long as they didn’t murder each other on the way down.

“Let me guess,” Pidge said, cocking an eyebrow and smirking. “We needed them out of here so they would stop smothering us with their unresolved sexual tension?”

Shiro barked out a laugh. “That, among other things.”

Allura looked out at the three giant, deadly celestial bodies lighting up the dark sky. “Let’s hope they know what they’re doing.”

“Do they really ever?” Hunk asked, chuckling fondly. The rest of them nodded, slowly, realizing just how true that might be.

The Red Lion zipped into their line of sight, and Shiro sighed as he switched on his comms.

* * *

 

There was silence in Red’s cockpit, which in Keith’s opinion was vastly preferable to Lance’s annoyed chatter as he complained about Keith’s flying and his death wish and _dude, just shut up already._

It took most of his concentration to keep them on the narrow path to the base, anyway—Lance’s talking had only been one more distraction that could end up with them being crushed in a black hole or incinerated in the star.

Luckily, they were almost there. Keith was ready to get this thing over with; try and create an alliance (he’d leave that bit to Lance—no matter how frustrated the other boy was, he was infinitely better at diplomacy, and he knew it), and then he’d _finally_ ask about his knife.

Maybe he’d finally learn where he came from.

They landed on the planet—what looked like a lifeless asteroid—before hidden doors rumbled and they were able to enter. Lance didn’t speak a word the entire time, and Keith didn’t feel the need to compensate for the lack of conversation. They walked down into the base, coming before masked members of the Blade, standing in stony silence.

“I am Kolivan,” said the largest member, standing in the center. “The leader of the Blade of Marmora.”

Keith darted a look over at Lance, sure he would’ve started to talk by now (given that there was someone else for conversation), but he remained quiet. “I’m Keith, and that’s Lance. We’re Voltron paladins.”

“I am aware.”

“Then you—”

“I am also aware we told you to come with no weapons.”

“Then how were we supposed to get down here? Red was basically our only option.”

“Yes. But I’m not talking about the lion.”

Two Blade members appeared out of nowhere, tackling Keith to the ground as he tried to free himself (he thought he might’ve heard someone yelling “Keith!”, but that was unlikely given the only other person here was Lance). One of the Blades pinning him down reached out and grabbed his knife, and he grasped blindly for it.

“Hey! Give that back! It’s mine!”

The Galra gasped. “He has one of our blades.”

“Yeah, I do. What does it _mean?”_

“It means you _stole_ it.” Kolivan’s voice was cold, his words condemning. “Who did you take it from?”

“I _didn’t!”_ Keith gasped, straining against the Blades’ holds. “I’ve had it all my life!”

Kolivan turned to Lance. “Can you corroborate his statement?”

_Ah, hell._

“Yeah,” Lance said firmly, and Keith’s eyes widened. “Yeah, he’s had that blade forever. He didn’t steal it, whatever you assholes think.”

Kolivan was silent, and for a moment Keith wondered if he would take them at their word. “We can’t trust them.”

“I’m telling the truth!” Keith exclaimed, hating how desperate he sounded. “Please—I’ve got to know what it means.”

“You should leave,” growled one of the Galra holding Keith down. “And not come back.”

Kolivan nodded. “You have no place here.”

Keith closed his eyes, gritting his teeth; he wasn’t leaving without answers, but at this rate he was never going to get anywhere. “I—”

“Jeez, guys, have a heart!” Lance’s voice startled Keith into silence as he watched the taller boy with wide eyes. “He just wants to know what your stupid cult means, because somehow he has one of your super secret blade club knives. Why can’t you just _tell him_ instead of pinning him to the ground, calling him a liar, and making him beg? No matter how high-and-mighty you guys say you are, that’s not the work of some wiser power. That’s the work of a coward.”

Kolivan was silent as the other two Galra sneered, but they didn’t release Keith from their grasp. Keith just stared; this was the same boy who yelled at him for his quote-unquote crazy, suicidal plan? Lance was glaring at Kolivan, a rock-solid, immovable object that Keith had never once thought would be standing up for _him._

“The Blades are not _cowards,_ Blue Paladin. We must stay hidden if we are to make a mark in Zarkon’s forces, and your friend has threatened that secrecy.” There was a pause, and Keith braced himself to be rejected yet again. “Red one, you say you seek knowledge?”

“Yes.” Keith replied, startled.

“There is only one way to attain knowledge here: the Trials of Marmora.”

Never mind how ominous that sounded; he’d finally get answers. “I’ll do it.”

“If you survive, you will get your answers.”

Keith just nodded, but Lance’s eyes widened. “Wait. Survive?”

“You called us cowards, Blue Paladin. Surely _you_ aren’t, as a paladin of Voltron.” The title almost sounded like an insult coming from Kolivan, and Lance sputtered.

“But—I—” He glanced over at Keith; Keith just nodded, trying to get the message across: _you helped me convince them… now let me do this._ Lance shut his eyes before slowly nodding. “Alright. Do what you gotta do. But Keith, if you get yourself killed, I will personally stick it to your ghost.”

“Noted,” Keith replied, grinning. He turned his head to Kolivan. “So am I going to take these trials laying down or what?”

“Antok, give him the blade,” Kolivan said, the scowl clear in his voice. “Take him to the first chamber.”

“First?” Keith heard Lance mutter. “As in, more than one?”

As Antok began escorting him away, Lance asked “So what’s the deal with these Trials?”

The last thing Keith heard before the doors hissed closed was Kolivan’s reply.

“They either end in knowledge… or death.”

* * *

 

_I hate stupid Keith Kogane with his death wish and his glowy Galra knife and his dumb trials and his stupid outdated haircut._

Lance kept repeating that in his head like a mantra, as if somehow that would make it any better when the Trials started and he got to watch Keith fight for his goddamned _life_. Kolivan was up here in the control room with him, but he wouldn’t give Lance anymore answers besides his stupid cryptic sayings.

_Stupid Keith and his cult with their dumb sayings and his stupid desire to get himself killed in their dumb deadly Trials._

_Stupid_ me _for going along with it and not dragging him back to the Red Lion, kicking and screaming._

Right when he was about to crack and beg Kolivan for more answers, Keith appeared on the cameras, in a new Blade of Marmora suit—it hugged his frame a lot more than the paladin armor did, and Lance found himself wondering what Keith looked like in just the black under-armor suit.

_Stupid Keith and his fancy Galra suit and his dumb body._

Kolivan was looking at him strangely, a eyebrow raised, and Lance realized he was staring, and his face was warm. Was he… _blushing?_

_Stupid Keith._

Lance tore his eyes off of Keith to glare at Kolivan, who only smirked slightly, his gaze turning to the red paladin on the screens.

_Figures. First time this guy smiles and it’s at my expense._

Lance didn’t have long to gripe about that as a Blade rose through the floor and Keith charged toward him. Metal clanging against metal as they fought, and every hit Keith took was a hitch in Lance’s breath. The Galra got in a shot and brought Keith to his knees, holding his blade against his neck.

Lance watched with wide, scared eyes.

“Surrender the blade and the pain will cease,” came the nameless fighter’s voice, and Keith’s eyes only narrowed, and Lance could see that stupid stubbornness rising to the surface yet again. _Damn you, Keith._

“I’ll never quit,” he spat.

“Then the pain will continue,” said the Galra, and stood up, removing the blade from Keith’s jugular. “You are not meant to go through that door.”

Naturally, Keith ran straight for it, disappearing until the feeds changed to the next room.

_Stupid Keith and his inability to follow directions._

This time two Galra raised through the floor, and Keith got beaten up twice as quickly, and Lance was twice as tense.

And then he ran through another damn door, and he fought three. Four. Five.

It had started out painful to watch Keith getting beaten up, but now Lance just wanted to run down there and lug his stupid broken body to a cryopod and then put him in timeout. He wanted this whole thing done; screw knowledge or death, how about getting out _alive?_

“When will this damn thing end?” he asked Kolivan, resisting his desire to yell. “When will you decide he’s been beaten up enough?”

“Sometimes the most important thing is knowing when to quit.”

Lance wanted to scream. What the hell did _that_ mean? How was that an answer? Keith needed to get out of there; he’d die if he took much more from these fighters. Lance was about to start demanding that the trials end when he glimpsed the look on Keith’s face: a smirk, the smirk that he wore whenever they were flying a difficult course in the lions and Keith knew he could do it in his sleep. A really, _really_ irritating smirk, but right now it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

As soon as the hexagonal panels began to close, Keith sprinted forward and threw his knife. It managed to stop the panel from closing, and he fought past the Galra standing in front of it to grab the blade and jump through the chute, effectively escaping.

Lance breathed a sigh of relief. Short lived relief, though, as Keith appeared on the screen again, limping into a room, clutching his wounded arm.

He looked up at Kolivan. “It’s not over?”

“He still has not proved himself. He still has not beaten the Trials.”

Lance growled in frustration and helpless anger, a more animal sound than he knew he was capable of producing. On the screens, Keith muttered something too low for Lance to hear, stumbling forward a few more steps before swaying and collapsing.

After he fell, he didn't move.

_“Keith!”_

* * *

 

“Have we heard anything?” Hunk asked, scratching the back of his neck. “I thought we would have heard something by now.”

Pidge grunted. “It’s that dumb set-up—between the black holes and the solar flares we can’t get any signal, and apparently they haven’t thought to transmit anything yet.”

“Or they haven’t been able to,” Allura said, scowling. “Is there any other way we could get a signal?”

“If we accounted for the gravitational forces, couldn’t we reduce the interference and connect with the Red Lion?” Hunk suggested, and Coran shrugged.

“Worth a shot.”

Shiro sighed, staring into the star as if that would yield some answers.

_Please let those two be alright. Even if they come back just as oblivious and still hopelessly mutually pining, let them be alright._

* * *

 

The world slowly faded back in, white and blue blurring above him before it focused into a person—a very familiar person. “L—Lance?”

“It’s alright, Keith,” Lance said as he lowered a hand to pull Keith up. “I’m here now. We can leave.”

“Wh—what? No. I can’t—”

“It’s okay, Keith. Kolivan said that you lasted longer than anyone on those trials. We can get back to the castle, tell Shiro the mission was a success.”

“No, Lance—” Keith closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. He felt tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, but he’d be damned if he was going to let them fall. Not in front of Lance. _Especially_ not in front of Lance.

“What’s wrong?” Lance’s voice was soft, so soft, as he gently put a hand on Keith’s wounded shoulder. Keith winced, gritting his teeth against the yelp of pain that wanted to escape. “Oh, God, Keith. You’re hurt.”

“It’s—it’s nothing. Just a little scratch.”

Lance pulled him closer, carefully examining his shoulder, and Keith felt his skin heat up at their close proximity. “No, Keith, this looks bad. We’ve got to get you to a cryopod, alright?”

“No, Lance—I’ve got to figure out what it means.”

“Is that knife more important to you than your _life?”_

Keith winced as he felt the tears gather again, clenching his eyes closed to try and fight them off. “It’s the only connection I have to my past, my—my family. I’ve got to _know.”_

Lance’s eyes were twin pools, silently pleading with him. “Please, Keith. If you stay here, you’ll die. I can’t let you die.”

Keith choked on the sob building up in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut so he didn’t have to look at Lance’s open face. He wanted to go with Lance _so bad._ It would be so easy to go with him, back into Red, and get in a cryopod and sleep for a week. It would be so easy to be with _Lance._ But… “I can’t. Lance, I have to find out what it means.”

It was like someone threw a wall up behind Lance’s eyes; his face was suddenly wiped of its emotion and he stared at Keith like a stranger. “Fine. If you want to chose that _knife_ over _us,_ your _friends,_ that’s fine by me.” He turned and stalked off toward the door, and Keith felt his heart breaking.

“No—wait— _Lance!”_

But Lance had disappeared in a flash of blue light, and Keith was alone.

Just like always.

* * *

 

_“Lance!”_

Keith’s final cry echoed in Lance’s skull like some sick broken record, his tortured face tattooed on the back of his eyelids, in full view every time Lance closed his eyes.

“What the _hell_ was that?” Lance growled, his voice full of more raw venom than he’d ever heard it before. “Kolivan. _What did you do to him?”_

“His suit creates a virtual mindscape, reflecting his greatest hopes and fears. And he desperately wanted to see you.” Kolivan’s voice, steady and calm, made Lance want to scream and punch him in his damn secretive uncaring face.

“So it made him think I’d _abandon him?_ For wanting to find out about _his past?_ His goddamned _family?_ Like hell I would!” Lance was spitting fire now, a raging creature of anger and flame; now he knew what Red must feel like watching Keith endanger himself at the hands of pompous assholes who think they’re above everyone else. He wanted to rip this place apart brick by brick until he could get Keith out of here safely, knowledge or death be damned.

Kolivan, damn him, just sat there calmly through his tirade, and Lance almost went off again. A soft moan from the speakers tore his attention away from the Galra and his own smoldering anger, though, and his eyes latched on Keith. He was lying prone on the floor, groaning as the skin around his eyes twitched like he was trying to escape. The grunts he was making barely sounded human, born of pure animal pain, and each one cut Lance to his core.

Lance turned to Kolivan, lip pulled into a snarl. “You need to get him out of there.”

“He can decide when to leave.”

“You’re hurting him! He’s going to die! You’re messing with his damn _brain,_ can’t you see how _wrong_ that is?”

Kolivan grunted wordlessly. “Knowledge or death.”

That’s it. Lance was done here. “You know what? Go to Hell. I’m getting Keith out of here.”

The only sound that followed his exit was Keith’s pained moans.

* * *

 

“The Red Lion is on the move!” Coran cried, startling everyone on the bridge into a heightened level of panic.

“It’s attacking the base!” Pidge added, staring at her laptop before looking up with wide, scared eyes. “They must still be in there!”

“Why would it attack… unless…” Hunk’s face showed every inch of panic he was feeling.

“They must be in trouble,” finished Shiro, dread flooding him. “We’ve got to get down there.”

“It won’t be open for five more doboshes!” Coran reported, and Allura sucked in a sharp breath, closing her eyes before snapping them open sharply.

“As soon as the way is clear, we’ll take the lions down to the base, but we can’t do anything before that. Keith and Lance will be able to last for five more doboshes, at least. They’re both capable paladins, and they wouldn’t let anything happen to each other.”

“It’s what they’ll let happen to themselves that I’m worried about.” Shiro muttered.

The others nodded, staring wordlessly out at the starry expanse where their two friends had last disappeared, all wondering and fearing the same thing.

Shiro shook his head imperceptibly. _It won’t happen. I won’t let it happen to them._

_They’re not allowed to die._

* * *

 

Keith woke up with a groan, everything hurting. It all hurt so much. He kind of wanted to go back to sleep, but he knew instinctively that that was a really bad idea. Plus…

_“Keith!”_

_Lance._

“Lance?” His voice was croaky and weak, but he managed to push himself up to see the blue paladin running to him. His face had been dark, betraying a sort of fury Keith had never seen on Lance before, but now it was split with a watery grin. “You didn’t—you’re still here.”

“Of course I am, Mullet.” He crouched down next to Keith, smiling. “I couldn’t just leave you here to join up with these assholes.”

Keith tried for a weak grin. “Beginning to think their club is a little overrated.” He paused, looking up at Lance’s partly worried, partly relieved expression. “Uh… wh—what happened?”

He heard more footsteps entering the room, and Lance’s head swiveled. His smile morphed into a scowl once more, almost a snarl, when he saw who it was. “We’re _leaving,_ Kolivan.”

“Call off your lion!” came the shout from the Blade leader, and Keith realized he could feel Red’s frantic presence in his mind, angry and worried and working to get through to him. She gave a roar when she felt him, and he felt newfound strength flood him as he stood up, trying to ignore all of his aches and bruises and the fire burning through his shoulder.

Lance almost seemed to roar as they faced Kolivan, a human-sized echo of the fury of Red. “Move out of the way. We’re leaving.”

“Not with that blade,” Kolivan said, and Keith’s hand tightened around it instinctively. “You failed to awaken it; it does not belong to you.”

Lance tensed beside him, readying himself for a fight, and Keith thought that might be what did it; Lance, weaponless, preparing to fight to keep Keith from giving up his dumb knife. All his knife had brought at this point was pain, and no answers.

_So much for learning about my parents._

“Here,” Keith said, holding the knife out in front of him. Lance looked over at him, shocked, looking as if he were about to protest, but Keith just shook his head to silence him. “Take it. It doesn’t matter where I came from; I know who I am now, and we’re all going to need to work together if we want to defeat Zarkon. If that means I don’t get to keep this damn knife, so be it.”

Suddenly, the blade in his hand grew warm, glowing white, and then he was holding a full-length sword, and the other Blades around him were staring in shock.

“You’ve awoken the blade,” Kolivan said, his voice betraying his surprise.

Keith let out a slow breath. “What does it _mean?”_

Kolivan looked up from the sword to him, and despite the mask Keith could feel the Blade’s eyes boring into his skull.

“You are Galra.”

* * *

 

Shiro was bordering on full-blown panic when they finally got a transmission.

“Guys?” came Lance’s voice, and everyone’s heads shot up as one. “We’re on our way back.”

“Are you both alright?” Shiro asked, dreading the answer. Keith hadn’t spoken; it was quite possible he had done something reckless and gotten himself injured.

“…yeah.” Lance replied.

“Keith?” Allura asked, apparently thinking the same thing as Shiro. “Are you okay?”

There was a pause before Keith’s voice came through. “I’m fine.”

It was horribly clear to Shiro that he _wasn’t_ fine, if the strained, tired quality of his voice said anything. Add to that the fact that Lance seemed incredibly subdued, and it was obvious that whatever had happened had worn on them both.

“Allura, we have someone with us. He wants to meet you.” Lance’s tone was clipped, and it was _very_ clear that Lance didn’t particularly care for this someone.

God, what had happened down there?

“I’ll be glad to meet with him,” said Allura, calm and collected as always. “We’ll see you in a tick.”

Shiro, Pidge, and Hunk shared a glance. Whatever had happened down there, they had _all_ noticed its toll on Keith and Lance.

Luckily, Shiro wouldn’t have to wait long for the story.

* * *

 

Lance didn’t care how stubborn Keith was, he was going to get in a pod as soon as they got to the castle. Surprisingly, he didn’t protest as Lance hooked an arm around his waist, helping him walk to the cryopod chamber past the others, who all looked at them curiously as they trudged through the bridge. To their credit, none of them said a word, Allura instead turning the conversation to Kolivan as they greeted each other.

The doors hissed shut behind them, and Lance was finally alone with Keith.

“So,” he started. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about it… but when you do, I’ll be here. Alright?”

He expected some form of weak protest; it was Keith, after all. Instead, he only gave a slight nod. “Alright, Lance. Thanks.” He turned his head to give Lance a small smile, and Lance felt his heart skip a beat. Keith looked so sad, so beaten. Keith wasn’t supposed to look like this; he was supposed to be wild and reckless and fierce, flinging himself into battle and flying Red effortlessly through asteroids. He wasn’t supposed to look sad. He wasn’t supposed to look defeated. The empty look in Keith’s eyes terrified Lance, and he wanted to strangle Kolivan.

If _this_ is what learning his heritage had brought, what had even been the point? Maybe if Kolivan had taken it a little calmer than “You’re a Galra, the very race you’ve been fighting for all this time, the race your teammates hate and distrust,” Keith wouldn’t be like this. But Lance knew that was probably just his desire to blame the Blade for all of their problems; Keith would have reacted to this no matter how it had been presented.

Instead, Lance just returned Keith’s shaky smile, gently squeezing his good shoulder. “No problem, samurai.”

Keith raised his eyebrows, mouth twisted in a half-smirk. “Samurai?”

Lance shrugged, smiling. “Figured Mullet was getting kinda old.”

“I don’t believe it,” Keith said, a genuine grin lighting up his bruised face. “I’ve finally been promoted.”

“Now, don’t get _too_ cocky, fuzzbutt. You’ve got a long way to go until ‘Keith’.”

Keith snorted—snorted! “That’ll be the day.”

“Just you wait, hothead. You haven’t seen nothin’ yet.”

“Sure, _cargo pilot,”_ Keith replied, smirking as Lance’s eyes widened in mock outrage. “I can’t wait.”

* * *

 

Lance was sitting in the cryopod room, staring into space, when Hunk walked in. He had figured Lance would be here; after he didn’t show back up on the bridge Hunk had guessed this would be the only place he _would_ be. Allura had shooed Pidge and Hunk away so the main strategists could talk in peace, so he had wanted to come ask Lance about what _happened._ Kolivan had given away very little, and what he had said didn’t explain Keith’s injuries, nor the reason Lance had looked so angry.

Hunk had known Lance since the Garrison; he was a pretty laidback guy. He didn’t get angry easily. So what had happened?

Lance didn’t even seem to register his presence until he cleared his throat, his gaze suddenly darting from the cryopod to Hunk. He smiled weakly, raising a hand in a half wave. “Hey.”

Hunk smiled back, trying to stop his worry from showing. “Hey, buddy.” He took a seat next to Lance, and didn’t pull away when Lance leaned into his side; this was how they sat whenever anything was bothering Lance, with Hunk’s arm pulling Lance in close and Lance surrendering to Hunk’s comforting touch.

Lance’s eyes didn’t leave Keith. “I’m worried about him, man.”

“I know. I am, too.” Hunk paused, hesitant to ask what he wanted to but too curious to resist. “What happened to him?”

“He got beat up by the Blades.” Lance’s voice was hard, and that more than anything scared Hunk. “They nearly killed him.”

 _“What?_ And Kolivan’s _here?”_

Lance snorted derisively. “Wasn’t my idea. Keith said Allura would want to talk to him. Kolivan thought it would be a good idea, too.”

“Why would _Keith_ want Kolivan to come if he nearly got _killed?_ What happened to _you?”_

“Nothing happened to me.” Hunk glanced over at Lance; his face was blank in the way that suggested he was hiding something and determined to not let it show. Maybe nothing had _physically_ happened to Lance, like it did to Keith, but something emotionally definitely did. “And Keith has his reasons.”

“Like what?”

Lance tensed beside him, never taking his gaze off the boy in the cryopod. “Look, Hunk, I really can’t tell you. Keith will tell you, when he’s ready. But give him space, alright?” Hunk felt more than heard the deep, shuddering breath Lance took before speaking again. “He’s been through a lot.”

Hunk nodded, slowly. Whatever had happened must have been _really_ bad if Lance wouldn’t even talk about it. “Alright, Lance. Being nosy is more your department, anyway.” He smiled, hoping a joke would bring his friend out of whatever crazy funk this was, but Lance only chuckled weakly, almost out of habit.

“True. Thanks, Hunk.”

“No problem, Lance. Whenever you guys want to talk—well, my door’s always open.”

Lance nodded. “I wouldn’t go to anyone else.”

Hunk sighed, and tugged Lance closer; he was prepared to sit there until Lance got up. He didn’t have anything better to be doing, and it was clear Lance needed someone to wait with. It was equally clear he wasn’t going to do anything other than wait for Keith.

So, he’d wait. Hunk had always taken it upon himself to support his friends however he could, and Lance was the best friend he’d ever had.

Five minutes later, Lance was quietly snoring into his side, and Hunk hugged him a little closer.

_Sleep well, buddy._

* * *

 

Pidge wasn't going to lie; she had definitely been surprised when Keith had stumbled into the Green Lion’s hangar. Alone, no less. She would’ve thought that as soon as he stepped out of the pod Lance would be there to mother-hen him into oblivion. Hmm.

“What’s up?” she asked, and Keith winced, scratching at his neck.

“Uh, Pidge, I have a question.” She made a little affirming noise, and Keith sighed and continued. “You, uh—when you told everyone you were a girl. How did, uh… how did you manage to do that?”

Pidge cocked her head. “What d’ya mean? Are you—”

“No, no, it’s not like that. I just—I have something I need to tell everyone, too, but I don’t know how. Lance said he would help me, but… I didn’t know how to ask.”

This was definitely a new development. What did Keith have to tell that Lance already knew? It must have to do with what they learned down on the Blades of Marmora base, but what?

“I just kind of… said it. Shiro already knew, and he supported me, so I guess that helped. And the rest of you all said you had suspected—well, barring Lance.” Pidge said, and Keith chuckled softly. “I figure whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. We won’t think any worse of you, Keith. You’ll still be Keith. _Our_ Keith.”

Keith’s eyes softened. “Yeah—I hope you’re right, Pidge.”

Pidge played with the cuff of her sleeve for a few seconds before voicing the curiosity that was banging around in her skull. “Uh… you can tell me, if you want. One less reaction to deal with when the time comes, right?” Keith winced, closing his eyes, and Pidge waved her hands hurriedly. “You don’t have to, though, I totally get it—I was worried what people might think too, it’s totally cool.

“You should—you should talk to Lance, though. If he knows. I know he can seem really annoying sometimes, but he’s good with people. He’s got good instincts, and he could help. More than I could, probably, but don’t tell him that.” Keith opened his eyes, sighing, and Pidge wondered if he knew how much fondness was in his gaze. Probably not; he was a whole new level of oblivious, only rivaled by Lance.

“You’re right, Pidge, but…” Keith drew in a breath. “I want to tell you, too. Kind of a appetizer before the main course, right?” He smiled crookedly, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and Pidge realized something—he was scared. He was really, truly scared of telling anyone.

 _How bad is this thing? It can’t be_ that _horrible—Lance knows, and he spent all night in the cryochamber waiting for Keith to wake up._

“Are you sure?” Pidge asked gently. “You really don’t have to, you know.”

“No, I—I want to. Alright?” Keith locked eyes with her, and she nodded imperceptibly.

“Alright.”

He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath and ducking his head. “Okay—okay. It’s just… I’m Galra.”

Well. Pidge hadn’t seen _that_ one coming, although it fit all the evidence. Learned it on the Marmora base, too nervous to tell anyone, that weird knife he tried to hide. Even why Lance was so protective—he didn’t want Keith to be hurt by anyone’s reactions.

Heck, _Allura._ And _Coran._ The Alteans had their home destroyed by the Galra—no wonder Keith was so nervous about telling them. It’s not like the entire race’s crimes were his fault, but it was just like Keith to claim them all partly as his own.

Keith winced when he saw her face, and she quickly spoke over whatever he was about to say. “No—no, Keith, it’s fine, I was just surprised. And kind of worried, too—for _your_ sake. Because you’re taking all this on yourself. It’s not your fault, Keith. I don’t think any less of you—Lance clearly doesn’t, he basically lived in the cryopod chamber all of yesterday. No one will. Even the Alteans—” Keith flinched, and it was clear he had thought along the same lines as her. “— _even the Alteans_ know that. It might take them a bit more time than the rest of us, but you’re still Keith, alright? _Our Keith.”_

He still didn’t look convinced, and Pidge stifled a groan, trying to remind herself that she’d been in his position once too, and she technically knew how hard it could be. “Do I need to get Lance down here and get _him_ to beat some sense into you? Once when Hunk was feeling bad because of a completely horrible simulator run and at least two stomachfuls of puke in the gearbox, Lance followed him _literally_ shouting his praises. He’d probably do that for you, too, if it’d knock some sense into you.”

Keith’s eyes flew wide, panic shining clearly, as a blush climbed up his neck. “Ah, no, that’s not—that’s not necessary, Pidge.”

Pidge grinned wickedly. “Are you sure? I could probably find him if you wanted—”

“No!” Keith exclaimed, way louder than necessary, and Pidge snickered. “I mean, no, that’s okay. I’m good.”

“He’d probably tell you that you’re way better than good.”

“Pidge!” Keith yelled, and she burst out laughing at the petulant note in his voice. He glared, which did absolutely nothing to take away from the flush in his cheeks. “Stop it.”

“Alright, if you’re sure,” she said, and he sighed in quiet relief. “But seriously Keith—just tell them. It’ll be easier the quicker you do it, like pulling off a band-aid. No one will think any less of you. _No one._ And if they do, well… Lance’ll just beat ‘em up.”

“Pidge!” Keith exclaimed again, but this time there was something warm in his gaze, and Pidge sensed that her words had finally made it into that thick skull of his. Thank God—he had no reason to feel like he was suddenly some sort of monster. He had always been Galra, after all. It wasn’t like he would suddenly turn purple and grow several inches taller. And even if he did, it wouldn’t mean anything. Like she had said, he was still Keith.

 _Their_ Keith.

As she looked at the boy in front of her, who she had suddenly grown so close to in a matter of weeks and fit seamlessly into her space family, she made a silent vow to join Lance in the beating up of anyone who made him feel a monster.

No one was hurting _her_ family; space family included.

* * *

 

When Shiro came up to Lance in the dining area, he knew he was going to have some explaining to do—well, more like skirting around the actual explaining, because Lance sure as hell wasn’t going to tell anyone before Keith did first.

Lance had woken up with a blanket pulled around him and Keith missing from the cryopod, and had promptly gone out to look before Hunk caught him and dragged him to the dining room. Apparently he hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning. Funnily enough, between flying a death route and watching Keith get himself killed, he hadn’t noticed. But when Hunk had brought up food, even if it was just food goo, his stomach had reminded him.

And now the room was empty, save for Lance and now Shiro—perfect for a heart-to-heart that Lance _really_ did not want to have.

“So,” Shiro began. “Yesterday…”

“Yesterday…” Lance echoed.

“I know _something_ happened, but Kolivan was frustratingly vague. I just want to know why the closest thing I have to a brother came back in a Galra suit bleeding out. I _know_ Keith wouldn’t tell me anything, Lance, he likes to keep his secrets. But _you_ know.”

Shiro’s face was pinched and pleading, and it jolted Lance. He had never seen the head of Voltron like that before. _Closest thing he has to a brother? No wonder Keith went after him that day…_

“I’m sorry, Shiro, but I really can’t tell you. It’s—it’s Keith’s secret. He’ll tell everyone eventually, but I don’t want to spill it before he does. It wouldn’t be right.”

Shiro closed his eyes and sighed, resigned. “I guessed you would say that—you’re a good friend, Lance. You’re good for him.” Lance felt his cheeks warming and fought to keep them from turning red, but from Shiro’s slight smirk, he guessed they already were. _Dammit, Lance._

“I’ll say this, though—he nearly got himself killed, and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to watch, because he chose to do it. And I couldn’t help. You need to put a leash on that dumb stubborn brother of yours, Shiro, because he’s going to—” Shiro was laughing now, his face relaxed for the first time Lance had seen it in days, and it slowed Lance’s rant as he marveled quietly at the difference. It felt good to make his idol laugh, to make their leader laugh. “Because he’ll—”

There was a cough from the doorway. “Because I’ll what?”

Lance whirled, and sure enough, Keith was slouching against the doorframe in his regular skinny jeans and cropped jacket. The only thing that hinted at his ordeal were the dark circles under his eyes—but what mattered was that all of his cuts and bruises were gone and he was _okay._

“Keith!” Lance jumped out of his chair and flung himself at the other boy, grabbing him in a hug before Keith could even react. “You’re alright!”

“I _was,_ before you crushed my lungs,” Keith grumbled, but Lance noticed his face had flushed slightly pink and he was making no move to escape. “Jeez, Lance.”

“Yeah, Lance,” came Shiro’s voice, clearly suppressing laughter. “Jeez.”

Keith flushed even redder, and Lance started coughing as he broke away. “So, uh—glad to see you’re out of the cryopod.”

Keith scratched the back of his neck, shrugging. “Yeah. I got out this morning—you were sitting there, asleep. I, uh, you were shivering, so I found you a blanket.”

Lance gaped at him. “That was you? I thought that was Hunk!”

Keith looked up at him with warm, soft eyes. “Nope, that was me.”

“Thanks, Keith,” Lance replied, smiling, and Keith smiled back. They stood in silence for a few seconds before Shiro coughed, and they both jumped, straightening to face him.

“So, Keith,” Shiro started with a maddeningly straight face. “I’m glad you’re out of the pod. Are you okay?”

“M’fine.” Keith grunted. “It was just a little scratch, anyway.”

Lance snorted. “That’s total bullcrap. I saw you get sliced with that sword! It bled everywhere! I practically had to carry you to the pod!” Somehow, joking about what had happened wasn’t nearly as difficult with Keith standing alive and well just a few feet away.

Keith rolled his eyes. “I could’ve walked myself.”

“And fell over halfway there, maybe! Face it, Samurai, no matter how macho tough you want to seem, that was a bad cut.”

Keith had turned back to face him, arms crossed over his chest and a small smirk resting on his lips that made Lance’s chest feel strange. “Alright, Sharpshooter. It was a bad cut. Doesn’t mean you had to go totally ballistic on Kolivan like you did—”

“I didn’t go _ballistic.”_

Keith’s smirk widened as he rolled his eyes. _“Sure,_ McClain, _sure.”_

“Listen, Kogane, at least _I_ didn’t get the crap beat out of me by a bunch of masked fuzzballs.”

“That’s what you say _now,_ but I was pretty sure you were about to try and take on that entire base after the Trials.”

“Woah, wait, Trials?” Shiro’s voice cut through their banter, and Keith froze, eyes sending out a silent message for help. “What _Trials_ did you take, Keith?”

Lance put a hand on Keith’s shoulder in quiet support as he turned to face Shiro. “I—I can’t tell you, Shiro. Not yet.” Keith clenched his eyes closed before continuing. “I really can’t. I’m sorry.”

Shiro didn’t look disappointed, just resigned, as Keith quietly slipped from Lance’s grasp and out of the room, into the depths of the castle. Lance sighed; he really hoped Keith would be able to tell them soon, because the worry that they wouldn’t understand was tearing him apart. If he would just _tell them,_ he would see that he had nothing to be worried about. He was _Keith;_ not some random nameless Galra soldier that had fought for Zarkon since the womb. Everyone knew that—Keith was the only one who doubted himself.

“Lance,” Shiro said, jolting Lance out of his thoughts. “If you get a chance, can you talk to him? I’m worried about him, and it’s obvious he’s not… that he’s not going to talk to me.”

Lance smiled softly, sadly. “Of course, Shiro. I’m worried, too.”

Shiro’s face was tired when he nodded. “I know, Lance. I know.”

* * *

 

Keith didn’t know _where_ he was going, but he knew he was going there to be alone and hopefully not have to talk to anyone.

He hated it, not feeling like he could talk to Shiro about this. He was a secretive person by nature, but whenever he had ever had a problem he had _always_ gone to Shiro. Instead, he had gone to Pidge, and Lance was the first one who knew.

Stranger, though, was that he was _glad_ Lance knew. He was glad he had told Pidge, too, but she made more sense: she had already had to reveal something personal about herself, and it was _Pidge,_ who he had gotten along well with after the whole thing where she tried to leave had been cleared up.

 _Lance,_ though. They had even fought about the mission itself, and then suddenly when Keith was halfway to unconsciousness he had realized how _glad_ he was to have Lance watching his back. It was so odd: Lance had done nothing but fight him on their way down, but then suddenly when he was being pinned down by masked Galra Lance was defending him like there was no tomorrow.

Keith didn’t want to admit how much his heart had leapt when Lance had put an arm around his waist to help him into the pod, and he _definitely_ didn’t want to admit to the way his chest had warmed when he saw Lance lying there this morning in front of his pod, drooling slightly with his head tilted back against the wall. Or how he went all the way to his room to grab a spare blanket to tuck around his sleeping form, or how Lance’s smile shone brighter than any star.

_Dammit, Keith. How did you manage to get a crush on the guy who’s been nothing but an asshole to you since you met him?_

_Maybe when he also turned out to be funny, charming, loyal, and compassionate._

Keith groaned, shoving his face into his hands and slumping against a wall.

“Alright there, Number Four?” Coran’s voice came from behind him, and Keith jumped, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“Er, yeah, I’m fine, Coran,” he mumbled. “Just… thinking.”

“Ah,” the Altean said, nodding, and Keith had a terrifying feeling that Coran understood a bit more than he was letting on. “Well, if that’s all then, I have to go clean the cryochamber—we’ve been using it a lot more, these days.”

He started walking away, whistling some Altean tune Keith had never heard before, before Keith called out. “Wait! Coran, I actually have a question.”

Coran turned, walking back a few paces. “Yes, m’boy?”

“Uh,” Keith stammered, suddenly sheepish, “You—you said Zarkon was the Black Paladin, right?”

The Altean’s face was serious as he walked closer. “Yes—Alfor was his right hand, piloting Red, but Zarkon did indeed lead Voltron.”

“So, a Galra can be a paladin—but why?” Keith’s voice was dangerously approaching a rawness that he really didn’t want to get into, but he couldn’t help it. Why would Red chose him if he was the very race they were fighting against? Was it possible she didn’t know?

No—she had to know. And if she didn’t… what if she didn’t want him as her paladin anymore? He didn’t have anywhere else to go if he wasn’t a paladin. He wasn’t really _anyone_ if he wasn’t a paladin—he was just a dropout living alone in a desert shack.

Luckily, Coran spoke before Keith could drown himself in his own insecurities, placing a strong hand on his shoulder. Keith looked up, surprised, to meet two worried, warm eyes. “Keith, the paladin bond is not determined by race, or species. Not all Galra are evil—the Blades of Marmora have shown that. It—it may be hard for Allura to accept, even for me to accept, but just because Zarkon betrayed us does not mean all Galra carry his crimes.” He smiled slightly, but Keith could see the millennia-old sadness lingering in his eyes. “The lions are not wrong, my boy. _Red_ was not wrong. Even if you were purple with fuzzy ears, you would still be her paladin.”

It took a second for what Coran had just said to sink in, but once it had, Keith gaped. “You—you know?”

Coran smiled sadly. “I watched Alfor and Zarkon train enough to know how Galra fight. I’d thought it a curious oddity that a human fought in such a distinctive way, but when you came back and Number Three refused to say a word, I put the pieces together. Allura doesn’t know, though. I thought it’d be best if you told her.”

“So, you—you don’t—”

“No, Keith. I don’t think you’re a monster. Not all Galra are evil. You didn’t destroy Altea, after all. You weren’t even a conception’s conception when Zarkon began his reign of terror.” Coran sighed. “I warn you, though—Allura may not take it well. She’s been struggling to even work with Kolivan. She’s still mourning, and she’s only a child. Give her time, and she’ll come around. Don’t worry, Red Paladin. Everyone will still accept you. You’re halfway there—all you need to do is tell the other three.”

“Wait—how do you know I told Pidge?”

“I could see it in her eyes. She was worried for you, my boy. And you don’t have to have an encyclopedic knowledge of the universe to know that Lance is very concerned for your well being as well.” Keith felt himself flush, and Coran smiled. “We all are.”

Keith smiled, some of his fears lifted. Coran didn’t hate him. Coran, whose planet was destroyed by the Galra, who lost everyone he had ever known because of them. Coran didn’t think he was a monster. “Thanks, Coran. I needed that.”

The Altean straightened up, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “No problem, my boy. I’m glad I could help. Now, I really do have to go clean the cryopods. Would you mind giving me a hand?”

The prospect of spending a quiet afternoon with Coran, being able to focus on a simple task and having Coran’s old war stories to take his mind off his worries, sounded perfect. “Not at all, Coran.”

“Great! I’ll have to tell you about the time Alfor got himself tangled up in a yalmor herd. Oh, it was quite amusing—our commander certainly had something to say about that…” Keith smiled, letting himself be swept away by Coran to the cryochamber.

Maybe this wouldn’t end up being so terrible after all.

* * *

 

Pidge and Hunk were working in silence on various projects, side by side, when Hunk spoke. “Do you know what’s up with Keith?”

“Besides him having a massive crush on Lance, you mean?”

Hunk gave her a level stare. “You know.”

She held his gaze for one count, then two, before sighing. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. He came to me earlier when he woke up, asked how he should go about telling everyone.”

“What’d you say?”

“I told him to just get it over with… I think he’s trying to psych himself up, or something. It might take him a while.” She sucked in a low breath. “I can’t say I blame him, though. My gender is one thing, especially since a lot of you knew anyway. Keith… he’s really worried about this. He doesn’t need to be, we all know he’s still Keith, regardless, but I’m not sure if _he_ realizes that.”

Hunk sighed. “Lance is worried, too. And _I’m_ worried about _him._ He tells me everything— _everything,_ Pidge, even the stuff I really never wanted to know—but he wouldn’t tell me this. It must be important. He fell asleep outside of Keith’s pod yesterday, and Lance generally needs at least 20 minutes to get prepared to even _get ready_ to go to sleep. And that’s always in his bed, in his silk pajamas with his headphones cranked up.”

“Yeah… the only good thing that might come out of this will be those two idiots finally getting together.”

Hunk laughed. “I’m not so sure about that—do we really want Keith and Lance being sickeningly cute all the time? They already bicker like an old married couple half the time and flirt shamelessly the other half. Lance is super touchy, besides, and I _really_ don’t want to run into them making out.”

Pidge shuddered, trying to avoid envisioning that particular scene. “You might have a point, my friend.”

“Nah, but I hope they do get together. They’d be good for each other, and I _know_ Keith makes Lance happy. He’s never really said it, mainly because he couldn’t be more in denial if he were in Egypt, but it’s obvious.”

Pidge laughed lightly. “Yeah. And Hunk?”

“Mmm?”

“Thanks. For not asking me.”

“No problem, Pidge. I know if it were a secret Lance told me, I wouldn’t want to feel pressured to tell anyone, because I wouldn’t be able to. I figured it’s the same with you.”

Pidge hummed thoughtfully, looking down at the lines of code scrolling past on her laptop. “It is.”

* * *

 

Allura was frustrated. First, the alliance with the Blade of Marmora, however necessary, rubbed salt into an all-too-fresh wound. She _knew_ it was unlikely they were waiting for the prime moment to stab them in the back, but it was so hard to trust so soon… well, to her it was so soon after Zarkon’s betrayal. For the rest of the universe, it had been ten thousand years.

Secondly, whatever had happened down on the base remained a mystery to her, and no one seemed inclined to say anything. Keith was outright avoiding her, Lance would probably take a laser to the foot before he said anything, Pidge seemed overly nervous, and even Coran had a certain worried look in his eyes that said he was keeping something from her.

Earlier, she had tried to get information out of Kolivan. He had mentioned something about the “strength of your paladins, and their bond to each other”, and she had almost desperately rerouted their conversation.

“Ah, yes… the paladins have been working very hard, despite their differences. I’m very proud of how far they’ve come… where did they demonstrate their strength down on your base? It was meant to be mostly a diplomatic mission, though obviously it took another turn.” Allura had said, and Kolivan only frowned.

“I’m sorry, princess, but the Blades’ business is their own. I can’t reveal the nature of what happened on our base, or what happened to your paladin.” His lips twisted up in what could almost be called a smirk. “Besides, I believe the Blue Paladin would chew my head off if I revealed the Red one’s secrets.”

Allura had forced a chuckle—it was quite obviously true, from what Allura had seen of Lance and Kolivan’s rather tense relationship. And then Kolivan had said something else about Zarkon’s flagship, and the conversation never made it back to what had happened that day.

So she was understandably annoyed, and equally determined to get to the bottom of it.

But how would she figure it out, with everyone in the castle either in the dark or determined to keep it a secret…

She was stalking toward the dining hall when she heard squeaking, and felt a gentle tug on her mind. She looked down, where the four mice were scrambling around her feet. She bent down to scoop them up and was suddenly struck by a thought.

The mice had known that Pidge was a girl… what if they knew this, as well?

“Do any of you know what they’ve been hiding?”

The mice hesitated, all trading glances before Chuchule nodded, followed by the other three. She felt a slight twinge at the edge of her mind, a reluctance that normally wasn’t there when they talked to her.

“Can you tell me?”

Again, the mice looked at each other, but the hesitation was even stronger this time. It wasn’t like them to keep information from her… what _was_ this secret? What would keep even Coran and her mice from telling her? It couldn’t be simple fear of what Keith or Lance would say—after all, the mice didn’t worry about that sort of thing.

So what _was_ it?

Maybe it was her unconscious mental urging, but they all nodded as one and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, my friends,” she whispered, and listened intently as they started squeaking.

By the time they had finished, she was feeling far less grateful.

* * *

 

Lance woke up in the middle of the night, and he couldn’t for the life of him get back to sleep. He had been having a nightmare, he knew that much—and whenever he closed his eyes he saw Keith’s anguished face as the hologram of him had walked away, which tipped him off to the contents of the dream pretty well.

It had been what felt like thirty minutes but was probably closer to five when Lance pushed the blankets off of himself, threw on a robe, and left his room.

He didn’t know where he was going until he got there and stars surrounded him as he sat down at the edge of the glass. When he was on the bridge, he could almost pretend Earth was just a star system away, and somehow that made all of his worries seem less of a problem. Yes, he was still fighting an alien war, part of a group that formed a giant robot to defeat evil fuzzy purple dictators, but if he could pretend he could almost see Veradero Beach from here, he could pretend his problems away. At least for the night.

After a few minutes of staring at the stars, when he closed his eyes he only saw their image lingering on his retinas.

He had just managed to start nodding off when a shuffling noise from the door caught his attention, and he turned.

Keith was standing frozen in the doorway, staring at him with wide eyes. “I’ll, uh—I’ll go.”

Lance froze, until Keith started shuffling away and he found his voice again. “No, Keith, stay.”

Keith stopped. “Are you sure?” Lance nodded, and Keith turned and entered the room, taking a seat beside Lance.

He stared out at the stars, never glancing over at Lance, and Lance swallowed nervously. What if Keith really didn’t want to sit here with him? What if he just wanted to be alone? “What—uh, what brings you here?”

Keith closed his eyes, sighing. “I couldn’t sleep. I was just… thinking. About yesterday.”

Lance nodded. “Same for me.”

The other boy looked vaguely surprised at this, but he just took a deep breath and continued to stare out at the stars. “I—uh, well. When I was taking the test, I woke up after passing out to see you. And…” He clenched his eyes closed, and Lance was horrified to see he looked close to tears. “You, well, you left me.”

 _Holy hell, did Keith think that had actually been_ him?

“God, Keith, no,” Lance said, grasping at Keith’s shoulders, turning him to face him. “That wasn’t me. That was a hologram, or mindscape or whatever the hell they want to call it, that they put you through. Kolivan said something like ‘it responded to the person’s strongest desires and fears’, and that you wanted to see me, ‘cause I was the one down on the base with you.”

Keith was looking up at him, and Lance took that as a cue to continue. “They made me watch that horror show. That’s why _I_ couldn’t sleep, Keith. Because I kept seeing your face as holo-me walked away. Out of everything Kolivan did to you, that was what pushed me over the edge. Because I’d _never_ do that to you. Not in a goddamned _million_ years.”

The other boy pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, sucking in a shaky breath. “I had hoped—I had wondered. Because I saw… I saw something else, too. It _had_ to be a vision, so I hoped that you were.

“I—I saw my dad. We were in my shack, and he showed me the knife and said my mom was coming soon to tell me about it, but… but outside there was a Galra ship, and I could stop it, because Red was out there too and I couldn’t just let all of those people die.” Keith was trembling now, and Lance pulled him closer into a hug, holding him as he rambled and rubbing circles into his back. “So I… I left him. I could’ve seen my mom, but I didn’t, because I had to save those people and I couldn’t let my own selfish desire for answers ruin anymore lives besides mine. I—I’m sorry you had to see it, Lance. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Lance couldn’t help an incredulous laugh from bubbling out of his throat, tasting like acid. “Keith, _no._ It’s not your fault. _I’m_ so sorry you had to see all that, and the only answer you got was that you belonged to some secret sect of Galra freedom fighters and that you were part fuzzy purple alien.”

Keith looked up at him, his shimmering violet-hued eyes staring into Lance’s blue ones before seeming to come to a decision and softening. He reached out a hand, gently brushing Lance’s cheek, and Lance felt his brain start to short-circuit. _What…_

Smiling slightly, Keith replied. “Kolivan was right about one thing, though.”

“W—what?” Lance stammered, suddenly aware of their close proximity.

“I did want to see you. I wouldn’t have chosen anyone else.” He smiled wryly. “Clearly my subconscious projected that quite clearly.”

“I—uh, I—” Lance mumbled, and staring into Keith’s dazzling eyes and leaning into his body heat, he was struck by something very real that he had somehow never noticed.

_I have a crush on Keith Kogane._

It wasn’t nearly as surprising as Lance would have thought realizing he had a crush on his so-called rival would be, but he suspected his subconscious knew all along and was just waiting for the rest of him to catch up. Things began to fall into place; why he had insisted on going with Keith on his suicide mission, why he had lied about knowing the knife was really Keith’s, why it had felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest whenever Keith got hurt, and why his chest had started fluttering at little things whenever he was around him.

He had a crush on Keith… and he was getting the distinct impression that _Keith_ might like _him_ as well.

Well, this was certainly a new development.

Keith’s eyes lit up, and he seemed to find what he was looking for as he suddenly leaned in and brushed a chaste kiss against Lance’s lips before settling into his side, once again looking at the stars.

But it was _definitely_ a development in the right direction.

Lance put an arm around Keith, pulling him even closer and smiling to himself as he stared out at the stars.

Home seemed even closer than it had before.

* * *

 

Hunk walked onto the bridge and abruptly snorted. Lance and Keith were curled up together, Lance’s arm around Keith as he buried his face into Lance’s chest, and they were both fast asleep. Lance was snoring gently, and Keith was softly breathing, but they both wore the remnants of smiles on their faces and Hunk couldn’t help grinning.

_Finally._

Too bad he had to wake them up—Allura had called all paladins to the dining hall, her face like a block of stone. Whatever it was, Hunk was vaguely terrified. Obviously it wasn’t an imminent Galra attack… but whatever it was, it had Allura in a foul mood and Hunk was quick to volunteer to go find Lance and Keith. He had had a sneaking suspicion he would find them both at once, anyway.

Whoo boy, was he ever right.

He walked over to Lance, shaking his shoulder gently. “As much as I’d love the time to gather photographic evidence for Pidge, Allura wants us to report to the dining hall a-sap.”

Lance grunted once before his eyes fluttered open. He blinked the sleep out of them, looking up to see Hunk grinning down at him. He could pinpoint the exact moment when Lance realized what he was grinning about, as his gaze darted over to Keith and his face flushed red.

“Ah… so this is a thing now.”

“About time,” Hunk replied, and Lance blushed deeper before turning around to poke Keith awake.

“C’mon, sleeping beauty, rise ‘n shine.”

Keith groaned, burying his face deeper into Lance’s chest. “Mmph.”

“Allura wants us, Keith, and you know how Allura gets.”

_“Mmmph.”_

“Come on, babe, you can’t sleep forever.”

Keith bolted straight up, his face flushed red, and Lance laughed. Hunk stifled a chuckle—or maybe a groan, he wasn’t sure at this point. They really were too much.

“Aww, _baaaabe,”_ Lance cooed. “If you’re gonna be my boyfriend, you’ve gotta deal with the pet names. It comes with the title.”

If it was possible, Keith blushed even deeper, but to his credit he managed to grunt out a reply. “What title?”

“The luckiest person in the universe, of course!” Lance exclaimed, arms spread wide, smile loud and exuberant and laughing but Hunk could see just how genuine it was. It made him glad that they had finally gotten together; it had been a long while since he’d seen Lance smiling this often, this widely.

Keith rolled his eyes, gently smacking Lance on the shoulder, trying unsuccessfully to hide his smirk. “Get over yourself,” he grunted, but he was smiling. Keith hopped to his feet, offering his hand to Lance, who took it, grinning. Hunk couldn’t help but notice even after Lance was on his feet he didn’t let go of Keith’s hand, but he wasn’t about to point it out.

“So, Allura wanted us all to come to the dining hall. Don’t know why, but she looked kinda pissed, so brace yourself.” Hunk looked over to find Keith’s face pale and drawn, Lance drawing him slightly closer protectively and whispering something in his ear.

Hmm. Could Allura’s meeting be about whatever it was Keith wasn’t telling? Because as far as Hunk knew, she didn’t know. Maybe she wanted to bring them all together so Keith could tell them once and for all. Allura hadn’t ever seemed like the most patient person, after all—but maybe that was just because she was fighting a millennia-old war with a bunch of human teenagers and a stressed-out adult.

Hunk walked into the room to find Allura standing at the head of the table, Shiro and Pidge and even Kolivan scattered on the sides. Coran stood at Allura’s side, but his face was drawn and the area around his eyes was tight; whatever Allura was planning to do, it wasn’t Coran’s idea. From the look on his face, it was clear he was actively against it.

Oh, Lord, what had they all gotten themselves into?

Allura tensed as they walked in, and Keith and Lance did the same as they saw Allura. They warily made their way to the other end of the table, hands clutched firmly together, watching Allura with tense expressions.

Hunk saw Shiro’s gaze trace where their hands met, nodding to himself, and he saw Pidge’s slight moment of triumph before her expression slipped back into worry. He himself slowly took a seat next to Pidge, praying that whatever was going on wouldn’t get _too_ out of hand.

 _Good God, what had they learned on that base that would have Keith and Lance so wary of_ Allura? _And her so wary of them—well, probably just Keith. Lance by association._

Allura cleared her throat, drawing herself up to her full height. “So, Keith,” she began, and Keith went visibly pale. “Why didn’t you tell us you were Galra?”

Hunk’s eyebrows flew up as he cursed inwardly.

_Well, damn. That would do it._

_This,_ he thought grimly, _is not going to be fun._

* * *

 

Keith’s mind was mostly stuck on the prevalent track of _she said it, she said it, how did she know, why did she say it,_ but running off of it was that Lance was gripping his hand tighter now, and Hunk’s vaguely surprised expression, and Shiro’s slight gasp. Heads swiveled between him and Allura like an intense tennis match, and Keith _really_ wished his heritage wasn’t the ball in play.

“A better question,” Lance growled next to him, “Is why you decided _you_ got to be the one to tell everyone else.” Keith couldn’t even glance over, give him a warning look, ask him to stay out so he didn’t get caught in the firestorm that was Allura’s fury as well. He was frozen, shock rooting him in the spot. He really wanted to run, to leave, to get out. This was what he had been afraid of from the beginning—that his being Galra would tear the team apart.

“Keith’s heritage affects us _all,_ and he should have informed us sooner.”

“When?” Lance snarled, angrier than Keith remembered hearing him. Anger wasn’t Lance’s emotion at all; he was boisterous happiness and quiet sadness and longing and laughter and loyalty. But for Keith’s sake, he was angry, and Keith couldn’t decide how that made him feel. “Before or after him being beaten within an inch of his life?” Keith saw Kolivan wince slightly, and the back of his mind registered slight surprise at the abashed reaction.

Pidge slammed her hands down on the table, standing up abruptly. “And his heritage doesn’t affect _anyone_ here, except himself. Just because Keith is Galra doesn’t mean anyone here needs to give a damn about it.”

Allura looked slightly taken aback at Pidge’s outburst, but it only seemed to fuel her quiet anger. “The Galra destroyed my home. I—I can’t—”

Coran laid a hand on her shoulder, whispering something in her ear, but she only shook her head. “No, Coran, I can’t. Our last Galra paladin—he was my father’s best friend. _My_ friend. We’d known him for years; I’d known him my whole life. If _Zarkon_ could betray us, anyone could. Especially a Galra.”

Lance hissed a shallow breath between his teeth, and Keith just wanted to grab him and shut him up so he would stop trying to protect him, so he would stop getting himself in deeper and deeper trouble for Keith’s sake. But that wasn’t how Lance operated, was it? He wouldn’t just let his friends get themselves hurt before throwing himself in the line of fire first. But _Allura_ was their friend, too—she was still part of their space family, right? She… she wouldn’t let this drive them apart. Could she?

But before Lance could speak, Shiro’s calm voice broke through the angry haze hovering over the room. “Princess, with all due respect—Keith isn’t Zarkon. It isn’t fair to judge him by his race’s crimes.” He shot a glance at Kolivan. “Especially when not the entire race committed them.”

Keith took a shaky breath—Shiro still wanted him. First Lance, Pidge, Coran, and now Shiro. They didn’t hate him. They didn’t think he was a monster.

Keith didn’t want to think about how he would’ve taken it if Shiro _had_ taken Allura’s side. After all, the Galra tortured him for a year. He had more right than the rest of them, barring the Alteans, to hate him. _But he doesn’t. He doesn’t hate you._

“Sorry, Allura, but they’re right—I get that you’re grieving, I know that it’s hard and way too soon, but it’s not fair to take out it on Keith like this. He’s still our Keith—emo, sort of a loner, kinda angsty, a little bit awkward, and my best friend’s boyfriend. Now he’s just secretly purple.” As Hunk added his two cents, Allura seemed to deflate even more, and Keith breathed just a little easier. Hunk accepted him, too—now it was only the princess, though Keith would be the first to admit she deserved time to get used to the idea.

Lance sighed beside him, and Keith could see the fight draining out of him like a tangible thing. “They’re right, Allura. I shouldn’t’ve yelled like I did, especially with everything going on. It wasn’t fair to you; the Galra wiped out your entire planet, and you haven’t even been given proper time to mourn. I understand that.” His gaze hardened; it wasn’t the wild firecracker fury from earlier, only a quiet stubbornness. “But it wasn’t fair of you to accuse Keith of being a traitor because of his blood, either. None of us have been through what you and Coran have; we can’t even begin to know the pain that you have both experienced. But that’s not an excuse for you to treat Keith like he’ll stab us in the back at any moment.” Lance squeezed his hand gently. “I trust him with my life.”

“As do I.” Shiro volunteered.

“I do too.” Hunk added.

“Ditto.” Pidge said.

“I would trust Number Four as well, Allura… I know it’s hard to trust, but if we can’t have faith in the new generation of paladins, we can’t trust in our ability to end this war at all.” Coran’s eyes were deep pools of quiet sadness, but his voice was strong as he spoke. “And we _must_ believe we can end this.”

Allura seemed to curl into herself, and she looked so small in that moment, so scared, that Keith suddenly found himself talking in this conversation he had inadvertently created and had wanted nothing more than to stay out of.

“Look, Princess… I’m not asking you to accept this right away. You deserve time, Allura, time to mourn and time to adjust, no matter how rare that time is in the middle of war. But my heritage isn’t _me._ Red—she would have seen who I was, and she still chose me. Zarkon may have been the Black Paladin, but he couldn’t have always been evil. Something happened, he betrayed you, and everything went to hell—but he didn’t stab you in the back because he was _Galra._ I won’t stab you in the back at all.” He paused, and Lance squeezed his hand, a silent boost of support that gave him the confidence he needed to finish. “You don’t need to accept me right away… just give me time, alright? I’m sure I’ll prove myself someone worthy of your trust, no matter how hard-earned that may be.”

Allura was looking at him, and there was something in her eyes that he couldn’t place as she sighed and walked toward his end of the table. “I—I’m sorry, Keith. I shouldn’t have reacted this way. You _have_ earned my trust—all our ours. It may take me a while, but…” She stood in front of him now, smiling faintly, hand extended. “Can we work through it together?”

Keith smiled back, gently pulling his hand from Lance’s to shake Allura’s. “Sounds good, Princess.”

Lance cleared his throat beside them. “Ah, sorry, Princess. I shouldn’t’ve—I was pretty insensitive. I’m sorry.”

Allura just smirked, a dangerously mischievous expression crossing her face. “Oh, it’s quite alright, Lance. You just wanted to protect your _boyfriend.”_

Lance puffed out his chest, sticking his hands on his hips. “Damn right I did! Mullet here needs all the help he can get.”

Keith whacked him lightly on the shoulder. “I thought you’d given up ‘Mullet’?”

“Hmm, you’re right, babe. How about sunshine? Darling? Angel? Honeybunch? Apple of my eye?”

“God, you’re impossible,” Keith said, groaning, as he tried to hide his burning face from their smirking audience.

“C’mon, I could go on all day, dearest—my parents used pet names like the world was ending.”

“The world _will_ end before I enjoy yours.”

“Ah, sweetheart, I’ll change your mind,” Lance said, winking, and Keith couldn’t help the warmth in his chest and the flush spreading up his neck as he grinned back.

“Well,” interrupted Pidge. “I don’t think this could get any more disgusting.”

“I don’t know why we wanted them together in the first place.” Hunk agreed.

“I dunno…” Shiro said. “It’s kinda funny watching Keith the ‘forever loner’ in a relationship.”

“That was a phase, Shiro! A phase I told you to _never bring up!”_

Shiro just grinned. “That’s what you said about the emo gloves, too, but I still see those.”

Keith rolled his eyes as Lance poked him, laughing. “‘Forever loner,’ huh?”

“Oh, shut your cakehole.”

“I know how you could make me,” Lance replied, eyes sparkling, as the others made gagging noises.

“Please don’t, Keith,” Pidge pleaded. “I’m only fourteen, you can’t make me watch mature content like that.”

“I’m seventeen, and no offense guys, but I _really_ don’t need to see two of my best friends making out.”

“I’m approaching 10,650 myself, and despite all the trouble we’ve gone to trying to push you both together despite your rather oblivious human synapses, I have absolutely zero desire to see our hard work reach fruition.” Coran interjected. “Now. Who wants food goo?”

There was one beat of silence, two, before everyone burst out into laughter, and suddenly it didn’t seem nearly as bleak as it did just a few hours earlier. Everyone knew his secret now, but they still accepted him, even Allura, and now they were all laughing together at what was basically nothing. Even Kolivan was smiling as the others chuckled around him. The scene warmed him to the core; as cheesy as it sounded, he finally felt like belonged, even in this castle filled with aliens and robot lions and geniuses and sharpshooters.

As Keith rested his head on Lance’s shoulder, he smiled, watching the others banter and bicker amongst themselves, feeling Lance’s long fingers intertwine with his own, knowing if he looked up warm blue eyes and a brilliant smile would meet his.

If you had asked Keith a year ago what his family would look like one day, he wouldn’t have answered anything remotely close to his fellow passengers on the Castle.

And now Keith couldn’t imagine a life without them. His family.

His space family.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, de-nile puns. ;)


End file.
